Accidental Amputee
by Margaret Luna Sullivan
Summary: Based on a challenge from Pixel and Stephanie Forever. Ron Bashing, other Weasleys TBA. Twins good. Hermione and remaining sixth years good. Slytherins redeemable, Dumbledore ditto. Rating for safety's sake.
1. The Accident

Disclaimer: Nope, it's not mine. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the concept for this one, and that belongs to Pixel and Stephanie Forever, who henceforth shall be known as the One True God of Harry Potter Fanfiction. I'm adding one concept, and one concept only

Eventual Ron Bashing, not sure about the other Weasleys, Gred and Forge are good, guaranteed. Main pairing is Harry/Hermione. Not sure how everyone else will fit in.

Pixel's challenge can be found at the end of the last chapter of The Great Hogwarts Road Trip, but to refresh people's memories:

1:Harry gets cursed off his broom by Draco, during a quidditch match.

2:Harry lands feet first

3: When Harry gets to the Hospita Wing, he finds out he's missing a leg.

4: Madam Pomfrey is unabe to regrow Harry's leg, due to extensve damage

5: Ron abandons Harry, and everyone else supports Harry

6: Somehow, Harry gets found hovering on his broom. (Pixel, if you're reading this, and explanation of that point would be appreciated!)

7: Pairing is Harry/Hermione AKA H/Hr

* * *

**A Perfectly Good Match Ruined**

Gryffindor Vs Slytherin was never a good match to watch. It was even worse to play in. Not that the Gryffindors played a dirty game, far from it. While they did manage to commit their fair share of fouls, (actually, quite a few less than their fair share, but they did commit the occasional foul) it was the Slytherins' playing method that made this match one to dread. Well the Slytherins' playing,, and the famous Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry, which never seemed to be put to bed.

In hindsight, many agreed that the disaster should have been seen coming. After all, Draco Malfoy and his goons had dressed up as Dementors in order to try to fool Harry during third year. Fortunately, Harry had managed to overcome that obstacle, and the students had shied away in terror of Prongs, Harry's Patronus. Unfortunately, Prongs would be of no such use in this incident, and poor Harry's legendary Seeker reflexes were equally redundant.

Why? Draco had shot Harry in the back with a blasting spell, probably _Rictusempra_, from the apparent results. _Bombarda_ would have blown a hole through the much-loved Seeker, as would _Reducto_.. If Harry had seen it coming, everyone agreed he could have dodged it…. they expected. But it was now a moot point, as the spell had knocked the boy off his broom.

Harry's terrified screams as he somersaulted through the air from Merlin-Alone-Knows how high, going Merlin-Alone-Knows how fast. Albus Dumbledore tried desperately to slow the boy's descent, even as he knew he was probably too late. Miraculously, the speed-reduction spell had caught Harry when he was upright for once, slowing his speed only very slightly. Thus it was that poor Harry crashed feet first into the hastily cushioned Quidditch Pitch.

Of course, Madam Hooch's whistle blew at once. Normally, a game wouldn't have stopped for an injured player, but in this case, where one player had cursed another, the decision to stop the game was uncontested, although some Slytherin players and students were expressing disgust at the abrupt ending of the game. Their new head of house, Horace Slughorn, quickly shut up the dissenters, especially his team members, by informing them that he would not hesitate to forfeit the next match if they did not start showing something resembling sportsmanship, and respect for their fallen opposition member. He also automatically and permanently removed Draco from the team, citing dangerous play, wanton foul committing, and behaviour unbefitting of a Slytherin as his reasons for removing the boy.

In a move which amazed a lot of people, Albus Dumbledore actually not only agreed with Slughorn's decision, but stood up to Lucius Malfoy, and with the help of the school board, was able to make the decision final. Not only that, but, with the support of Slughorn, Albus made it official: Gryffindor had won the match, as they had been in the lead when Draco's disgusting foul had occurred.

Poppy Pomfrey was one of the first people on the scene, and she conjured a stretcher almost on autopilot, before levitating her patient onto it, and starting out in the direction of the Hospital Wing, despite Harry's protestations that he was more than capable of walking himself there. Poppy refused to reply, instead speeding up her footsteps, and levitating the stretcher as fast as was safely possible. When the doors of the Hospital Wing finally came into view, Poppy and company moved through them as fast as they could, and Poppy guided the stretcher to a bed which was very familiar to the patient.

"No, Mr Potter, you are not going anywhere. Now just lie there and let me see what I can do to fix the damage that stupid boy has done to you!" Poppy exclaimed in frustration, pushing her patient back down onto the bed. Harry slumped backwards, admitting defeat. He had taken one look at his lower body, and realised why Madam Pomfrey hadn't let him walk up. HE LITERRALLY COULDN'T WALK!! Not with one leg missing from halfway down the thigh.

Harry started to shake, as shock and blood loss set in. Poppy grabbed a blood replenisher, before hastily cauterizing the wound stump. Only fragments of Harry's right leg could be found, and reattaching the leg was deemed impossible. Harry seemed to take this news in stride, after a few seconds of horror. When the question he asked did not receive a positive answer, however, Harry started to panic.

"Ok, so you can't reattach the leg. That's OK, we can deal with that. You can use magic to regrow it, right?" "Sometimes, yes, Mr Potter. This, sadly, is not one of those times. I'm really sorry, lad, but there's too much damage for that." Poppy replied, mournfully. She then had to consider fetching a calming draught, as Harry appeared to be having a panic attack.

While most of the Gryffindor team were trying to calm and soothe their Seeker and captain, the team's Keeper, and Harry's long-term best friend, Ronald Weasley, was loudly voicing his opinion that Harry should be automatically ejected from the team, and possibly even Hogwarts and the whole of the Wizard World, as no-one wanted a crippled maniac with delusions of adequacy. Although he was shouted down by most of the team, and indeed most of the school, Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins were loudly agreeing with every word Ron said. Upon being informed of this, at a later date, both parties would claim that everyone slips up sometimes, and that maybe there was hope for the so-called opposition.

Unfortunately, Ron's cruel words had played right into poor Harry's low self-esteem issues, and it took a powerful calming draught, and the presence of Hermione Granger, (The third member of the so-called Golden Trio), along with the other members of Gryffindor House, and anyone else who was willing to stay, to convince Harry that he was wanted and needed at Hogwarts. The thing which finally clinched it for the bespectacled teen was when Daphne Greengrass came up to visit him, several hours after the incident, and informed him that he'd "damn well better get well soon, because we need to have a Re-match."

At Harry's look of confusion, the teenager elaborated: "Slytherin don't begrudge Gryffindor being automatically awarded the match, we were going to suggest it ourselves. But the Slytherin team wants to be able to beat the pants off you Gryffindors, or lose to you-Merlin forbid", the girl added "-after having played a proper game, not after having one player too injured to continue, and another sent off in disgrace. So we're going to hold Seeker tryouts-" at Harry's surprised look, the girl calmly stated that Malfoy was off the team, and hopefully out of the school, the slimy little scumbag,"-while you get well and get a new leg, and then Slytherin challenges Gryffindor to a pride match. Not for the cup or anything, but just to prove between ourselves that whichever team wins won fair and square."

Daphne smirked at the shocked look on Harry's face, before adding: "Not all Slytherins are slimy and evil like Snape and Malfoy, Potter. Just like not all members of the other houses fit their stereotypes. as well as you fit Gryffindor's." When Harry nodded, mumbling an apology, Daphne waved one hand dismissively, before leaving the boy with one final thought. "If it can't be regrown, the Muggles seem to have a fairly good idea, and our world is using it too. If Pomfrey can't regrow your leg, then just pull a Moody."

Taking a breather, mainly to allow the other teen to assimilate what had been said so far, Daphne continued: "But whatever you do, get back on two feet, as soon as you can. We need you, Potter. I know the Wizard world in general, and Slytherins in particular haven't been very good to you over the years, but we need you. And not just as the BWL, either." At Harry's confused look, Daphne rolled her eyes. "Boy-Who-Lived, doofus," she elaborated, before continuing, "We need you as a person, as the Seeker of our opposition team, as Snape's pet target, so he doesn't bully the Slytherins who don't fit in 100% and in every single one of you other thousand roles, not least of which is best friend to Granger."

Daphne's show of support was what changed things, not least of which was Harry's attitude. The boy dived into finding out about prosthetic limbs with added vigour, even contacting Alastor 'Mad-Eye" Moody for advice, and presented his findings to Madam Pomfrey, who checked them over, before contacting a magical prosthetics company. Harry would have to go to St Mungos for regular physiotherapy and to learn how to use the new limb, but he could be fitted with a magical prosthetic. Soon, they expected, with a lot of hard work, Harry Potter could lead as normal as possible a life for an involuntary amputee.


	2. Adjustment and an Offer

Nope, don't own it. J.K. Rowling does. Get over it.

OK, so we're ignoring Order of the Flaming Dodos. This is a fifth year fic, and Sirius WILL be cleared. Snape is slowly going through a personality transplant. I'm blaming it on hormone potions. You can blame it on the wonderful concept called Alternate Universe. This will NOT be Manipulative!Dumbledore, although there will be occasional references to old, or stupid, decisions of his.

* * *

Adjustment and an Offer

"AhhhhhhOWWWWW!" (NO, not a werewolf, Harry screaming in pain and terror.) Harry Potter slammed upright, shaking in terror, before starting to whimper. The teen slowly curled into a ball, desperately attempting to use massage to soothe the burning nerve endings in his aching right leg, which was sending constant pain messages to his still sleepy brain.

Well, 'attempting' is the operative word, since the leg in question was missing from halfway down the thigh, a fact the young wizard was still growing used to, with the help of a Mind Healer. Just one look at the wall by his bed confirmed this fact, for hanging there was the prosthetic leg the poor boy was trying to adjust to. The Healers had promised him that once he was truly used to the leg, and was using it to get around; he could do anything he wanted to. Even Quidditch. Space travel would be his only limit- unless he went Muggle, that is.

And speaking of things the young wizard was trying to adjust to, there was the dull emptiness that came with knowing that the only constant link he had to his long dead parents was now refusing to have anything to do with him. Oh, he knew perfectly well that his aunt and uncle hated him, and even that they considered him a burden. They'd never hidden this fact from him, indeed they proclaimed it regularly. However they had taken him in all those years ago, and they had always taken him back at the end of each year, even if they did hate him. But now that he was disabled, a "useless, worthless cripple" to quote Vernon, who hadn't even bothered to mask this opinion, and had instead shouted it out in front of everyone who cared to listen, the Dursleys would no longer have anything to do with him.

In fact, just to prove that Harry no longer had a place with them, and never would again, Petunia had actually dumped everything that had belonged to Harry out on the kerbside, where fortunately Arabella Figg had found the boy's belongings, and rescued them, before they were taken to the council tip. There was even one of Lily Evans' old school trunks in the pile of things Petunia tossed out. Hell, just to do a really thorough job of it, Petunia had even thrown out the furniture that used to be in Dudley's Second Bedroom, simply because Harry had been using it for the last few years, and it was therefore 'contaminated' by the Freak, and had no place being in a NORMAL household. It was unfortunately obvious that Harry had no value whatsoever to the Dursleys, now that he couldn't be worked constantly, and needed to be taken care of, rather than 'earning his keep' by taking care of them.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and all around good egg, even though he was sometimes a well-meaning but annoyingly manipulative silly old bugger, was unsure of where Harry would live now, he had suggested the Weasleys, but that had been shot down in flames by Ron's disgusting attitude. And then the offer came.

**"Drs Judith and Andrew Granger would be delighted to have the company of Harry James Potter for the summer between their daughter's and his 5th and 6th years, and, should he desire it, the following summer as well."**

Harry stared at the letter in shock, before turning to his remaining best friend. "Mione? Is this for REAL?" "Of course it is, Harry. My mum and dad liked you the first time they saw you, Mum's been asking about you ever since second year, and when I wrote home, fuming, about what Ron said, according to Mum, Dad broke our BEST chandelier! Just yelled at the thing and it exploded. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad came, and fixed the chandelier, and apparently Dad's coming to Hogwarts next year, since his fury awakened latent magic, or some such thing. Either way, Mum and Dad are insisting you come to our place for these holidays, and unless Sirius gets cleared, between now and the following summer, they want you to come over for next summer too."

Harry just stared at her. "WOW! Someone actually wants me? Even though I can't earn my keep?" "And just WHAT is that supposed to mean, young man?" asked a furious, oddly silky hiss. "Um...I...er...nothing" Harry stuttered. "Eloquent as...oh stuff it. Potter, please, using Merlin's good English, explain to me EXACTLY what you meant by that statement." Severus Snape ordered. For once, Harry wasn't sure who the scowl on his face was aimed at. *Dammit, Fate. If you HAD to let a teacher hear me, why couldn't it have been McGonagall or Flitwick?* Harry mentally screamed.

He replied politely, however. "I, uh, had to earn my keep at the Dursleys. They were always complaining about how much it cost to keep me, so I had to do chores, and sometimes if I didn't do them properly I didn't get to eat, and..." The nervous teen trailed off. Snape stood there, staring. "Firstly, WHO are the Dursleys? Secondly, whose bright idea was placing you there? Thirdly, how long have they had this attitude? And finally, who keeps making you go back?... Actually, don't bother. The second and fourth questions are clearly Albus' Greater Good. The third one is probably for as long as you can remember, and since I vaguely remember Albus saying something about one of Lily's old trunks being tossed on the curbside, I can only guess that the Dursleys are Petunia and whomever she managed to eventually marry."

"Pretty much, Sir." Harry replied, nervously. "I hadn't realised you knew my aunt, though." Snape chucked darkly, shocking his listeners. "Knew her? We grew up as neighbours, and Tuney was a vindictive little *Deleted* ever since Lily got her Hogwarts letter. She was strange before that, although I thought it was fascinating watching Lily pick up a dead flower and bring it back to life, but their mother was nervous of it at first, and Petunia used that to get us in trouble so many times..."

Harry nodded. "Dudley does that, too. Then again, if ANYTHING weird happened, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I got blamed for it. Even if Uncle Vernon got a pay cut while I was in my cupboard, I got the blame."

Ignoring, or perhaps not noticing most of what Harry had said Snape sputtered, 'cu-cup-CUPBOAD? Whose bright idea was THAT?" "Uncle Vernon's I think," Harry replied, nervously. "OooooKAY. I KNOW it's possible to hate family, to even despise them, I felt that way about my father, and not because he was a Muggle. I like Muggles in general, but Tobias Snape was a raging alcoholic. Literally. But I had hoped that in the time since I was a child, Muggles had progressed in their treatment of children, so that confining them in small, dark places was illegal."

Harry blinked. "Er, Professor? I'm fairly sure it would be illegal to refuse to feed a child for several days in a row because they scored better than another child on a test at school or something like that, but that never stopped Uncle Vernon from doing it to me."

Everyone in the room shrank back in fear at the look of fury on the greasy headed Potions Master's face. "OK. I've never tried to hide that I don't like you. And it's not all because of Potter Senior, oddly, although he's the one I use to attack you the most. I might have been a little harder on you, maybe even allowed some of the minor stuff my house gets up to if it was just about Potter Senior. But Heaven knows I would never have allowed Malfoy to get away with openly attacking you or your friends, and I would certainly never have taken his side over yours if your behaviour was clearly justified. But of course, as much as it hurts either, or both of us ot admit the fact, Potter Senior wasn't the only one who died that night."

Harry blinked in confusion, before suddenly getting it. His face cleared, and he nodded, understandingly. "You hate me most because I lived and Mum didn't, don't you?" He asked, staring at the floor. "Sometimes I hate me most because of that, too. I mean, I'm not worth dying for, especially now that I'm crippled and useless." "Here, Pott...Harry. Drink this for me, and then you really should go and have a nap." Snape said, holding out a small blue vial, his face laced with concern.

Noticing Harry's sceptical look, Hermione observed the vial for several seconds, before turning back to her friend. "It's just a calming draught, possibly laced with a cheering potion of some sort, from the slightly darker tinges, and" pausing for a moment, to check her analysis with the good Professor, who was staring at her and mouthing something about not learning those potions for another year, "I think it may also have traces of a sleeping potion in it, probably Dreamless Sleep, from Professor Snape's suggestion of a nap."

"And you and your friends wonder, Miss Granger, why I refer to you as a know-it-all," Snape had finally gotten his voice back, after staring at Hermione with his mouth open for several seconds. "You're not meant to know about cheering potions or calming draughts, at least not well enough to recognise them, before sixth year." Here, he sighed. "Then again, you're not meant to encounter more than a passing mention of Draught of Living Death until sixth year either, and you could probably have brewed the base for it in first year. And no, that wasn't a compliment. Know-it-alls rarely endear themselves to others. Even well meaning know-it-alls. I taught Lily that within a few weeks, and she was MUCH more popular for it" He snarked.

Harry laughed. "And there's the Greasy Git we love to hate!" he whispered to Hermione, who nodded, placing one finger on her lips. "Shhhhh. If he hears you, then you'll be in..." trailing off at the look on her teacher's face. "Uh-oh. He heard." She whispered, paling a little. "Yes, I heard, Miss Granger. 15 points TO Gryffindor for honesty. 10 points FROM Gryffindor for insulting a teacher within that teacher's hearing."

Pausing, to gauge the reaction of the two students he was talking to, Snape continued. "Flies, Mr Potter," for Harry's mouth had fallen open. "If you must insult me, or refer to me in a casual manner especially within my hearing, PLEASE remember to use my title. And please, Miss Granger, stop imitating a goldfish." For Hermione's mouth was opening and closing uselessly.

Chuckling, the older wizard continued, "Potter Senior got away with calling Professor McGonagall by her first name so much because he always called her Professor Minnie, unless he was flirting with her, which was DISGUSTINGLY often." He smirked at the looks of horror on the two students' faces. "I was in the same class level as him and his friends, as well you know. It sickened most of us, just how much Potter would flirt with the female teachers."

A dark chuckle, then Snape continued, almost reminiscently. "Then again, IF I didn't value my life, I just might have tried to flirt with Minerva as well; the years have been good to her, although her hairstyle hasn't. I remember when she wore it in a single braid most of the time, it was a good deal softer, and her face was far gentler for it. The war impacted us all in strange and often harsh ways." He rubbed at his left arm, unconsciously. Both students flinched.


End file.
